Peanut Butter
by MauMauKa
Summary: Thou Shalt Not Question the Cooking


**A/N: I came up with this after seeing the movie version for the 4****th**** time. My dear friend durronswife and I came up with this idea, and she gets full co-author credit! NON-CANON. Purists, take heed! This is just something for fun. **

"**Peanut Butter"**

After being served a mess of burned ramen noodles floating in watery broth, Cougar knew he would have to take matters into his own hands or they would starve to death. Jensen's lack of ability in the kitchen was phenomenal. He'd gone through four saucepans just trying to boil water for instant coffee. "It's because it's boring" Jensen protested when Clay gave him the evil eye. "You wait around forever and nothing's happening, then all of a sudden it takes off on you and goes dry in three seconds."

Aisha flatly refused to cook; "I'm not your goddamn maid", she said. Pooch's specialty was cold Fruity Pebbles with strawberry milk, a meal that set Jensen to babbling for four straight hours as the sugar rushed through his system. Clay could grill a mean steak, but he seemed to have trouble understanding the concept of an electric stove, so Cougar figured it was up to him.

When they had arrived at their latest hideout, a crappy apartment in an anonymous town, Cougar had taken off to the nearest grocery store. He had returned loaded with vegetables, meat, pasta, spices, pots, pans, and strange-looking kitchen implements. Dumping the bags of supplies in the kitchen, he stood in the doorway and said pointedly to all and none of them, _"Estancia."_

Jensen, who was half-getting up to go see what Cougar had bought, found himself caught in mid-squat. Pooch laughed. "I think he means you, man."

Jensen plopped back onto his chair, looking a little hurt. "I just thought I could help chop or something."

"Probably cut your friggin' hand off" Clay shook his head as he scanned a copy of the local paper.

Loud banging ensued from the kitchen, followed by Spanish mutterings. The Losers waited to see if Cougar would re-appear, but he didn't. Soon there was the sound of sizzling meat and a delicious smell began to permeate the living room of the little apartment. "Wow! That smells _good._" Jensen sniffed the air with an appreciative grin. "I wonder what's in it? I smell hamburger and tomatoes and onions and something else."

Pooch's stomach rumbled, making Clay chuckle. "It'll be nice to eat something that isn't burned for once."

"But there's something _else_, though!" Jensen closed his eyes. "I can't figure out what it is...it's familiar, but I can't think what..." He rose and began walking towards the kitchen, still taking deep sniffs of the air.

"Don't do it" Pooch warned.

"It's not something I can put my finger on, but I swear it's familiar." Jenses disappeared into the kitchen. "Wait...what? What are you doing, Cougs? Is that PEANUT BUTTER? Ouch! All right, all right! Hey…!"

Jensen flew backwards, horizontally, into the living room and landed on his back on the floor. Pooch snorted as Jensen stared up at the ceiling in amazement. "He was putting peanut butter in the sauce!"

"So?"

"It's _spaghetti_ sauce!"

"Who the hell cares, as long as we get to eat?" Pooch rolled his eyes. "Sit down and shut up for five minutes."

Thirty minutes later, a flushed Cougar stuck his head out of the kitchen. "Set the table."

Everyone looked at Jensen.

"Oh all _right_" Jensen grumped as he got up and grabbed some paper plates and plastic cutlery. It was universally agreed among the Losers that people like them had no business buying real dishes. The table was cheap, scarred wood with two broken chairs. They usually put the food on it, then helped their plates and sat wherever they wanted to, eating off their laps.

Cougar came out carrying two pots and a towel over his arm. He spread the towel over the table and set the pots on top. "_Ahora damos gracias._" He bowed his head, and after a moment, the Losers did, too. Nobody spoke until Clay looked up and saw Cougar looking at him, eyebrows raised.

"Uh, Dear God…" Clay begain, feeling like a prize idiot. "We thank You for this meal, and that we're all still alive and here and, uh…"

"We pray that Jensen will be forgiven for trespassing into Cougar's kitchen." Aisha finished, grinning.

"Amen!" Pooch grabbed a serving spoon out of the nearest pot. "Let's eat!"

The spaghetti was delicious.


End file.
